


seasonal dynamics

by spoke



Category: Yoroiden Samurai Troopers | Ronin Warriors
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/pseuds/spoke
Summary: In which Warlords get to know each other a little bit better.





	seasonal dynamics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nirejseki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirejseki/gifts).



For all that Cale has heard him mocking the others, Sekhmet is always very quiet when they spar. In the first years he’d wondered if he somehow caused offense, and then cursed himself for a fool for even caring. Still, he tried to provoke a rise out of his fellow Warlord, to get some sense of the fire he saw in all of Sekhmet’s other interactions. 

When it didn’t come in fighting, he had taken to childish pranks, stealing or rearranging small items in his rooms. Telling his servants to feed him his least favorite foods, once he’d found out what they were. Cale could _see_ that it was making him angry, but until he got the reaction he wanted, he wasn’t going to stop. 

Until today. For all his continued silence, barely responding to Cale’s jabs, there was something more aware in him, more present. The wooden staves were almost cracking from the force he was exerting. 

He was without question _much angrier_ , which Cale took as progress right up until he landed on his ass with one of Sekhmet’s actual swords at his throat. When had the bastard summoned that?! But he laughed a little, quietly, because they both knew Sekhmet wouldn’t _dare_ , Talpa would raise hell greater than the one they were already in if he did.

After a tense moment Sekhmet eased away, and asked softly, “What the hell is your problem, _Cale_?” 

“Why are you so damn _quiet_ around me?” He shot back as he rose. When his eyes met Sekhmet’s he growled in frustration. “What? Whatever it is, it’s not as obvious as you think it is!”

Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed even further than usual. He spoke with exaggerated care, “I have naga blood. You’re the Warlord of winter. The _cold_ puts me to _sleep_ , fool.”

“The cold - I put you to -” Cale was a little appalled to hear himself cackle, but this was ridiculous. This was the best thing he’d heard in years! He winced seeing Sekhmet’s glare, but it was too much. Also, he was right, Cale was a fool for not working that out himself. 

By the time he pulled himself together, Sekhmet’s arms were folded and he was staring at the screen that led to the courtyard. Cale had heard it too, the muttering and laughter that weren’t quiet enough. Not for their hearing anyway.

He wondered about the other two on that score, but they might find out dealing with this. “Well. Since they’re so interested in betting, what do you say we do something about that?”

Sekhmet glanced at him, sidelong and amused. “You take Spring and I’ll take Summer?” 

If only Anubis and Dais could see their grins, Cale thought, they wouldn’t be nearly so amused with their little game anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, they were betting on how long this would go on. Why not, it's entertainment! Not so much afterwards though.


End file.
